A Taste for Madness
by Just My Heart
Summary: Drusilla has prepared a present for Spike, and what a ghastly one it is!


Disclaimer: Other than this fic, I own nothing. Happy now?

Warnings: Violence, mild gore, kissing. Not too bad in those departments.

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_Torture._

The cellar lights flickered and swung loosely, seeming to spell out that dreadful word in their unforgiving shadows. The eight prisoners that lie there tied tightly, struggled to not be overtaken with panic, only to fail miserably. There they were, praying for their lives before the fun had even started! Little did they know, death would probably be a better fate than what they were about to endure.

The coolness of the floor soaked into Drusilla like a drug, and she mopped it up in a trance-like ecstasy. The pain, the suffering - it was delightful! It reminded her of the innocents she and Spike had slaughtered before, all those screaming faces repeating back to her in a broken record fashion. Of course, perhaps 'innocent' wasn't the best word for them. Drusilla was as innocent as they came before Angel drove her mad; what did she do to deserve that treatment? In either event, Spike would be so proud of her! Surely he would love this gruesome present.

One of the prisoners, a man of perhaps age fifty, squirmed in an attempt to escape. The ropes were tied tightly, not willing to give to his efforts, and the vampiress smiled at his malcontent.

"What's all this now? Is our guest not satisfied with our hospitality?" She rolled from her back unto her hands and knees, crawling toward him like a tiger. "That's very rude, yes it is. How shall we punish him, Miss Edith?" That name summoned an uneasy panic within her - where was Miss Edith? "Miss Edith?" She scanned the room intently, searching for her beloved doll.

"No! No! Miss Edith? Miss Edith!" Her hands flickered to her face like butterflies, their movement not supressing her trembling whimpers.

"Stop that racket!" A young girl cried out from the corner. Drusilla's attention snapped to the slayer in waiting, and she scrambled in front of the girl that commanded her so.

"You're the one that waits. You're the bouncing baby brat that was born into this world to inherit the gift of being chosen. But you already are chosen. Yes..." her voice suddenly softened, dripping like poisoned honey from her fang veiling lips. "I have chosen you to be the first blood I taste, the first life I so willingly devour in front of our guests."

The girl glared at her, staring right into Drusilla's darkened eyes. "I'm not afraid of you. I never was afraid creatures that are allergic to the sun and can be killed with a tooth pick."

Drusilla's hand returned to her lips, a slight gasp squeezing between them. Her fingers slowly relaxed and drooped, except for the pointer finger which remained at it's perch and motioned her to be silent. "Shhhh." she breathed, like a tea kettle barely releasing steam. Then the raven haired vampiress' attention returned to Miss Edith, the doll she had misplaced.

"Oh, my darling! Where have you been? Mummy doesn't like it when you run away ... makes me frightened."

"You're a fool!" The slayerette shouted, disregarding her unfortunate position.

"You! You know where Miss Edith is! Tell me now!" The creature surged at the slayer-to-be, smooshing her cheeks with one pale hand. Her thumb rested on one side of her face, her fingers on the other, with a grip that tightened until her captives lips puckered as if eating sour candy.

"What are you talking about?" the girl annunciated as best as she could.

"Stop lying!" she yelped, and her hand loosened from her cheeks. She allowed her fingers to rake as she removed them, clawing lightly at her rose colored lips.

CHOMP!

The slayerette bit Drusilla, her white teeth gnashing through the sallow skin on her middle finger. The cold blood flowed into her mouth, slipping down her throat like a soft drink, taking in the essence of her being. Drusilla was not pleased! With a slight screech, she retracted her fingers like a small girl recoils from a viscious dog.

"You will regret that, my dear." she warned her. In an instant she lurched at her, that pretty face metamorphosing from a lovely woman's to a creature of the night. She struck, savoring the taste of cold skin on her tongue, her taste buds tantalized from the feeling of flesh...

"Now now Dru, none of that." Said a teasing voice from just behind her. Spike stood at her back, his hand blocking Drusilla's teeth from their desired target. Her tongue pulled itself inside her mouth, and she slithered upward like a cobra preparing to strike.

"I found a little somethin' of yours." He said, holding up a doll by the arm.

"Miss Edith!" Her words rang, hands surging toward her inanimate companion. Spike yanked it away mockingly, a smile across his handsome features.

"Wait, wait, wait! What do you say?"

His lover retracted shyly, and clasped her hands behind her slim figure.

"Thank you Spike... my Spike."

"That's my girl. But first, why don't you explain this little tea party we have here to me." He gestured at the crowd among them, his cold sarcasm fusing with the mind boggling fear the victims held.

Drusilla smiled with false innocence. "I thought you could use a little present. Tell me, do you like it?"

"I just love it Dru. This should be very ... amusing."

Drusilla squealed at her lovers satisfaction, and Spike thrust the doll into her awaiting arms. A sweet smile splayed across her face as she greeted the doll with cuddles, like a mother comforting a baby. That's how Dru' treated her dolls, after all. Like children, like the living thing she wasn't, her little friends in the dark recesses of her mind.

"A vampire that plays with a child's toy." The slayerette scoffed, sneering at Drusilla's behavior.

Spike's lover turned to him, her eyes slightly upset. "She hurt me, Spike. The one with the hair of dirt." She pointed at the slayerette, her hands fastened behind a metal support beam. She brought finger toward him and flipped it, revealing the small cut laced with her own blood.

"Did she now?" Spike whispered, as Drusilla placed her finger to hislips as she did before. He gently drank her blood, suckling the few drops that lay there. "Well, we just can't have that now can we?"

"Oh please Spike! Let me kill her! I want to taste her blood on my lips. I want to feel her very essence slip through me as I devour her. Oh, please Spike! May I?"

Spike sighed, sharing the disappointment that Drusilla would feel when she found out that she couldn't. "Dru, baby, she's already tasted your blood remember? If you drink her you will have sired her. I take it that's not what you want, now is it?"

"We'll both drink her. And then when she is one of us, we'll kill 'er! Please, for your princess?" She begged.

"All right, love. Whatever you say. Sire till your unbeating heart's content."

The female vampire smiled giddily again, her shoulders lifting in excitement. Then, in a deadly instant Drusilla dove at the girl, her fangs growing immediately. For the first time her victim showed fear, shivering slightly as she realized her fate.

Drusilla lifted a pale finger, and gracefully scratched a cut on the teen's jugular vein. A slow stream of the copper refreshment trickled through the wound, like a waterfall of the nightmarish fluid they craved; but instead of drinking, she stepped aside. She wanted Spike to have the first taste. He knelt down beside her compliantly, then lapped up the fluid with a barely controllable hunger. There was a gasp as he hooked his teeth into her, the feeling of blood draining horrifying. Blood is life; blood is everything, and this everything was leaving her. Life was leaving her, her fight against the tight ropes rewardless.

"That won't do any good, my dear. Now you will see life through our eyes for a minute. Though now that I think about it, this is a much better punishment than killing you right away. It is turning you into the very evil your despise. Oh how wonderful!"

Dru slinked around Spike, who was still gulping down the slayerettes essence like a drunkard at a bartap. She tickled the girls throat with her fangs, enjoying how her fearful shivers vibrated against her teeth, then without any further hesitation, sank her teeth in just below the jaw. The life force that flowed through them was incredible! It felt much like the time she sired Spike, only he was not afraid. He was willing, and wasn't at all reluctant to the change. This girl however, was different. She was afraid of them, whether she would admit to it or not, and she could feel the resistance to the change within her.

It was delicious.

The feast continued, the two ignoring the muffled protest of the others around them. But finally, the stream of liquid decreased to a drizzle, until all they could taste was dead flesh. Spike retracted his fangs, and wiped the blood off of his chin just as Drusilla rose from her perch.

"She was delectable!" She yawned and stretched, like a kitten who gorged itself on cream. "Like white wine... and cherries." She closed those shaded lashes as she swallowed, savoring the essence of the girl. "Mmm... the fear leaves such a nice after taste."

"That it does, poodle. That is does." He leaned in to kiss her, but just as his lips brushed hers they heard a muffled scream.

"Oh yes. I quite forgot about them. Shall we then, love?" Spike invited, and held out his arm like a goofy prom date.

Such a gesture was greeted with a smile, reminding Drusilla of the ballroom dances they had enjoyed together. The twirled the night away back then, the corpses whirling around them as her mind's violins played. So what if they were the only ones living? Oh they had danced, they laughed! They sang! But oh, did they dance! Waltzing to the tune of the stars, laughing as if possessed, watching the world twirl around them as their feet traced patterns in the blood. There was joy, giggling...

As if caught in this memory, she twisted like in performance over to the one she had eyed in the corner earlier, an attractive council member in his early twenties. Her hips moved in fluid motion, and her hands twisted in the air like eels as she made her way across the room.

The man shivered, and pleaded desperately with her not to kill him: "Please, no. Don't torture me, please!"

Drusilla lowered herself to the ground next to him, hovering over his helpless form as if suspended by ropes. "Don't worry, I promise it won't hurt," Her fingers splayed wide as they traveled up his chest, and she leaned across him just to whisper the rest in his ear, "For long."

With that, she bit into his flesh and drained him, lapping up the liquid she spilled. He was not nearly as tasty as the slayer in waiting, but she was too lost in her feeding to complain. Blood is blood, and blood? Ooo, blood is good!

Within minutes, the two had cleaned out the entire basement, ravaging the carcasses like soccer moms to Wal-mart sales. Only their freshly sired vampiress remained amidst the puddles of blood, no breath escaping her. Almost regretfully, Drusilla released her teeth from her prey, and pulled him up by his hair as she rose to a sitting position.

"Now that's what I call a meal!" declared Spike, picking a piece of entrails out of his teeth. "Dru, have you had your fun with him?"

"It's time for Miss Edith to sleep. She did not care for that mans blood, and he has given her a tummy ache. Bad, bad man!" she scolded, jerking his corpse violently in punishment.

Spike smiled at the way she saw things differently, the way she so easily escaped into her own reality. It was amazing; the worlds she lived in, the colors she painted that only she could see - truly astounding. With that she tossed the cadaver aside and meandered over to him, looking at him alluringly.

"You were quite messy." Drusilla commented, surveying the blood around them. "My Spike was hungry it seems."

"Not just for blood," he chuckled, lustfully hinting what was on his mind, kissing the viscera tidbits off her cheek. She gazed at her lover as if commanding him to take her, and Spike almost complied - until he heard a noise on the other side of the room.

"Gah!" She shrieked as she struggled against her ropes. Her hunger reduced her to leaning toward a puddle of blood on the ground, desperately trying to feed, fighting for blood like pigeons for old bread crusts.

"Oh, bollocks." Spike muttered as he closed his eyes, trying to hide his frustration. His tongue ran against the outside of his teeth, trying to wipe away the curses before they even escaped his mouth. "You want this one, love?"

His sweetheart stalked across the room, picked up a chair, and smashed it against the wall. The wood shattered into a number of splinters, crackling satisfyingly as she took a leg from the mess. _Now for the fun part!_ she thought sadistically, prowling towards the girl in a menacing manner.

"Don't," she said, fearing for her life. Dru smiled, and raised the stake above her head like a purebred slayer. "You would bring me into this world just to take me out?" she questioned, trying to reason with her. Any fool could see that would do no good; how can you use logic in an argument with a loony?

"I promised you'd regret what you did." Drusilla teased, waving the stake around in her fingers. Her freshly sired vampire gasped, pleading with her eyes for Dru not to kill her. Of course her plea was ignored, and the splintered wood pierced her motionless heart. Her form was erased, the white ropes dropping at the loss of their captive. An instant cremation from a wooden stick.

In her usual blithe manner, Drusilla shook the dust off her lacy dress, her eyes reflecting the usual gothic princess attitude that Spike adored. That mystery about her, the misconceptions that cloaked her - it made him love her all the more. The blonde vampire batted the stake out of her hands, gaping at the his deadly inamorata, that insane vampiress he revered for so long.

"So, has my Spike's appetite been satisfied?"

"For sure, Dru." He kissed her, thoseleather cladarmsfastened around her waist. Her slender fingers combed through his hair, adoring every strand as shedid his flavor, needing just one more taste. However he then pulled away with a smile, slipping in one last phrase while he could still resist her. His voice raspy with a wickedly sexy tone, he chanted to her: "I've always had a taste for madness."

THE END

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